Fort Weyr - Steeped in Tradition Weyr
As a goldrider's weyr, this ledge might be considered predictable, but it is the history that makes it something special, for this is the weyr in which Moreta lived. A wide wallow is plenty large enough for a queen to rest, and have a view of the weyr spread out before her watchful gaze. The interior is lavish and large, walls and floors perfectly smooth and glossy with age and use.
The tall, dark wood cabinet stands easily eight feet tall, and seven feet wide. Hand carved images of the Fortian mountains and woods make it a priceless and ageless piece, well cared for and meticulously oiled, even when the weyr was empty. It no doubt holds many secrets, but those will have to be gently pried from its many cabinets and drawers, secret compartments and whispered history among the drudges. Beside it is a large hearth with a wooden mantle, worn smooth by time and all the hands that have rested there and touched it. Hanging above the hearth is a sketch of Fort Weyr, seen from the skies. The parchment is old and curled at the edges, but the heavy wooden frame and precious pane of glass have kept it safe all these turns. There is a signature and date in the corner, but they're too faded to read properly.
In the back there are three different rooms. One is a large bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, complete with its own bath and closet. The walls are also smoothed and rounded, so good luck getting anything to fit flush against the wall. The bathroom is spacious, with a rather large stone tub, perfect for soaking in after a long day of meetings. Another is a smaller second bedroom with an attached closet and a little hearth, and the third is clearly meant to be an office, if the shelves carved into the wall are any indication.

As usual, Kouzevelth made things difficult when she chose to rise; she started glowing several awful days before the next rain, but as soon as the storm hit the gold took to the skies. The rain was a breath of relief for her rider, who let it pour down onto her laughing, getting completely soaked without a care. It may have been freezing, but she was dressed warmly and the way she'd felt like her entire body was on fire for days, everything was fine with Inri. Their recent visits to Ista and Emerald Isle brought many foreign dragons Kouzevelth had managed to tempt while glowing in other spaces; so long as there were no Weyrleaders amidst the group (besides Velokraeth, who didn't count), Inri didn't protest. It may have been unsurprising that after a rather chaotic, somewhat violent fight, she chose one of the foreigners after all: bronze Elenth, of Half Moon Bay, came out unscathed except maybe for a few scratches and possibly a light tail whip to the face from Kouzevelth herself, and the victor of the queen. She was content to fly through the storm as long as he would indulge her before returning to her ledge — Inri wasted no time dragging L'kan back to her less-freezing-rain-y weyr. That was then, this is now: emerging from that post-flight post-coital seemingly automatic nap around what is actually lunchtime, Inri makes a semi-satisfied noise followed by a murmur that sounds like "… hot bath." After all, it's still pretty cold.

While Elenth was willing to oblige Kouzevelth for quite some time, he was enver the snuggliest of dragons and retreated to safety fairly soon after they leanded back ont he ledge - a decorous distance away though he continued to watch her for some time before napping himself. L'kan was by far a different prospect - happy to be dragged, even happier to snuggle, and determined to stay for as long as he can manage. Inri's murmur is replied to first by a mutter of his own, something quiet and almost incomprehensible, but his breathing has changed enough that it's clear he's no longer asleep. "You willing to share?" His voice is quiet as he rolls slightly, propping himsel up on one elbow so he can look down at his current bedmate.

So long as he's good to the eggs and brings her a bite to eat every few days while she's sands-sitting, Kouzevelth will allow Elenth to stay as far away as possible while still in the line of sight. She's lightly resting, occasionally opening an eye to consider the sleeping bronze and Inri's mental state before shutting it again. Everyone's still here and fine. Okay. Back to sleep. "Was the general idea," is Inri's sleepy conclusion, smiling softly as she looks up at him. He's close by enough she can't see him perfectly without the glasses that are still on the bedside table (a good thing she wasn't wearing them; the way her hair is tousled all over everywhere, the glasses would probably be ice-damaged or dropped) but there are blurry lines making out a bronzerider she recognizes but doesn't actually know. "It's a big bath. Um. I'm Inri. I know he's one of Feyruth's, but …" Here's where she'll admit she doesn't know which one without actually admitting it.

On one of Kouzevelth's glances she'll catch Elenth watching her in return, his nap having been just that - a short nap. His gaze is assessing, his positioning relaxed yet somehow watchful. Guarding. Inside things are more relaxed, almost too relaxed some might say. "Ah but even little baths can have their advantages when there's a beautiful woman in them." Smooth with a capital SMOO, or at least that's the air that L'kan tries to project. "Beautiful woman, with an equally beautiful name." He pauses a second, not realising that his best lascivious grin is being wasted thanks to a lack of glasses, "Luka. L'kan if you want to be formal, though that generally requires more clothes. He's Elenth." He reaches one hand out, aiming to trail a finger along the closest limb he can find, "And yours is?"

Inri has no objection to casual touching; the formal definitely got left outside and also sometime in the past. The not-today past. It's probably her upper arm, because she's smaller and only halfway leaning upward … on said upper arm. At least she can see that he's got a grin. They're probably very nice teeth? "I'll remember both of those," she says, recording names to memory. "Elenth is a lot simpler than her — Kouzevelth. 'Zel' is fine, if it's a little bit too much of a tongue twister." Daughter of Zuvaleyuth and full sibling of Iaverulth. Thankfully Fort's current senior queen is named Kayeth! Inri stretches, which is an accidental breast display, but the goldrider's grown into comfort with nudity now that she's been at the Weyr longer than she was her home Hold. "She seems satisfied with his sentinel position."

L'kan's smile ratchets up a notch as she doesn't immediately scurry away from his fingers. His first attempt at Kouzevelth does slightly magle it, but it leads to a deep chuckle, "Guess I'll just have to practice." He may not be a teenager any more, but there's something about a woman's body that makes him stare — especially when it's Right There. He doesn't even try to hide it, "He's probably figuring out at least a dozen ways your weyr could be better protected. Spotting flaws. That sort of thing. Shoudl really be in here instead. Flawless." Yep, he's laying it on thick.

"You'll get used to it," Inri says, good-naturedly and pleased because L'kan is not trying to escape clutchparent duties. Or at least, it certainly seems as if he doesn't. That'll keep Kouzevelth satisfied as well, since Elenth is obviously an ideal eggsitter while she gets to stretch her wings every now and then. "Her name, I mean, not my ledge's flaws. The bedchamber does have a few problems, though, least of all that the bath isn't in it." She grins, and half-step, half-rolls out of bed to snatch up her robe (which she doesn't bother tying because she's just going to take it off again anyway) and go toward the bath chamber instead. "Do you even have dry clothes?" she asks, suddenly — guiltily, but also kind of amused — realizing that L'kan likely didn't bring a spare outfit and his clothing is likely, uh, a little damp. Or totally saturated with half-frozen rain.

L'kan watches the whole time she's getting dressed, quite happily lying there and not making any attempt to cover anything, "Clothes? I had some once, I remember. Can't think what happened to them." He makes a show of pondering that would make any harper wince in pain at how corny and overacted it is, "Maybe I'll just borrow some of yours. That robe would do for a start." If he has a subtle mode, it's clearly not being employed right now, but at least he doesn't actually seem to be running towards the bath. "Is it always this cold here?"

He's amusing Inri, though; the coming-on-strong-guy act is making her smile, even laugh a little, because it seems so innocuous rather than threatening. Thanks for being the cute kind of flirty instead of the creepy kind, L'kan. Inri's had lots of both. "They might be under the bed. They might be outside. The dragons might be sleeping on them. Not sure this one would fit you, but you can always check the closet and see if there's anything that will! People leave things here sometimes." Besides some of her ex-weyrmate's stuff, her friends just ditch their clothes there at times because she DOES have, like, the best bathtub in Fort. "It's … not this cold in the summer?" she offers, kind of uselessly, with a small shrug.

"They might be ripped to shreds in which case I might never be able to leave again." L'kan adds another option the mix as he finally pushes himself up from the bed and moves over towards the bathing room. "So sad. Whatever would you do with me." Inri's comment about the summer makes him laugh, a deep genuine chuckle, "I may have to stay til then, just to make sure you're not hiding anything from me. Secret heatwaves can turn a man's head you know."

"Your actual wing wouldn't mind?" Inri's still laughing; she seems the kind of amused where maybe she wouldn't object. She can keep him as a pet, and Elenth obviously fits just fine … "Because I suppose I could just keep you here. You're not the same size as my ex but you could just wear shirts that were too wide and …" She makes a vague hand-wave gesture, with a shrug. "Not wear any pants and be very cold. You might prefer your normal wing, though, because if you stayed here you'd be a weyrwoman's assistant with all of the delightful trappings of that position." It seems to involve private baths and comfortable beds and casual nudity so can it really be that bad?

L'kan grins, striking what could possibly be meant to be a seductive pose but on the hwole looking rather silly. "I'm wingsecond, I can give myself as much leave as I need. For the record I prefer to be warm, and if there's klah on the go I need about a vat of it each morning, but I could definitely get behind no pants day. Or week. Just how much time would I need? Just so I can call in sick." He even goes so far as to give a fake, a very very fake, cough, before offering. "May I /assist/ you into the bath. Just to make sure I'm suited to the role."

"I think that also means you have to check in every now and then," Inri is pretty sure wingseconds are important, especially if that's like the real-wing equivalent of what she does for Nyalle as her second in command type, but she also knows that dragons can do that. Long distance communication! Magic! Psionics, really. "I also think that being a clutchparent means you've got the excuse to hang around here as often as you want, just you're probably not going to be warm without clothes unless you move into the bath. I don't think our search and rescue wing has a wingsecond right now, though …" J'en can just lend him to Ashwin, right? No? Kouzevelth will have to suffer not having a constant sandspanion. "You can even turn on the tap, make sure you've got that important skill down."

L'kan literally handwaves the checking in thing, so casual despite… everything really. "If I get cold enough wil you give me the kiss of life?" Yes, he went there. He also goes to the bath and does the whole tap thing - multitasking! Watch him go! "Pretty sure my wingleader wouldn't really worry too much if I moved over here temporarily. He may go into some sort of mourning for about a minute, but then he'll find a distraction so it'll be fine. And Fort does have some very lovely distractions." Plural, though to be fair it's Inri he's got his eyes (and presumably mind) fixed on at the moment. "Your bath, M'lady." Hand out, ready to help her in. Or possibly pull her in for a hug or more, there might be that too.

Fort also has that great ice skating, though that's just Inri's thing that she tries to make everyone she likes enjoy even if they're not actually inclined to. The number of people she's taught to fall on ice properly no longer can be counted on two hands. "Fort is glorious, but I'm biased. Of course, I go out to Half Moon a few times a year, so if I had to live anywhere else." It'd be where he lived, unspoken but implied. "Except I don't think I'd enjoy it so much if I lived there. Thank you, kind sir," she concludes — and there's definitely a hug, and a chaste kiss to L'kan's lips, sorry, before she steps into said bath. Which is definitely large enough for two to comfortably divest themselves of freezing rain and post-flight-sex cold sweat all at once.

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